Vaermina's Realm
by theminimogut
Summary: Llathala worships many Daedra, but Vaermina is not one of them, for obvious reasons. One-Shot, No Pairing, Written in Third Person, from Llathala's Perspective. Set before the events of Unbound. *REWRITE*


Llathala was not pleased. She had been minding her own business, wandering the roads of Skyrim, when a strange dog showed up out of nowhere. It had looked at her, barked happily and wagged its tail before trotting off into the trees.

She squinted through the trees, and could barely make out some kind of path, leading farther into the forest. Llathala shifted her weight to one hip, looked over the path, and then turned her head to look at the road. She had traveled directly from Rorikstead, trying to get to Morthal, and while she would usually stop off in Dragon Bridge for the night, she was in a hurry to find more jobs to take. As it was, the sun was already beginning to set, and the roads - which were barely manageable by day - became very dangerous by night.

If there was something in the forest, some kind of shelter, maybe she could spend the night? You need the rest, her body reminded her. Of course, she would have to be wary. The dark elf did _not_ need a repeat of the Anise incident. Llathala sighed, then began to follow the winding trail.

* * *

Life had been… good. Llathala had taken to her new companion well, if not easily. The amount of times she had almost hit him… too many to count, and too painful to think about. She would just have to be careful; after all, Meeko could not understand the concept of strategy. He understood 'stay' and he understood 'follow,' but that was it.

The canine in question looked up at her, woofed softly and then proceeded to stare at something in the brush. Probably a rabbit, or a fox. Llathala smiled, and scratched him behind the ears. Her little guard. Quietly, she slipped a hand into her pack, reaching for a small, cloth wrapped parcel she had acquired. A bone that still had some meat on it; the butcher had given it to her for free, it wasn't fit for soup.

Together, outside of Whiterun's walls, they sat, the sun's dying light casting it's warmth on the landscape.

* * *

Llathala's heart raced in her chest; giants were very protective of their mammoths, and the mammoths could pack a punch all on their own. She moved slightly, placing the rocky shelf between her and the lumbering beasts. The Dunmer's fear of any animal larger than a house didn't help.

Meeko crouched beside her, growling like mad, but making no move to leave her side. She scratched his ears.

"Calm down, Meeko," she commanded. Damn her to oblivion if the giant and his charges weren't moving closer!

She began to back up quickly; having watched what mammoths, at least, could do to an unsuspecting traveler, the Dunmer wanted to put as much space between them as she possibly could. Her hand rested on Meeko's scruff, ready to pull him wherever he needed to go.

"Alright, hand over your valuables or I will gut you like a fish," said a cold, reptilian rasp from behind. Llathala spun, hand moving to her blade.

It was an Argonian thief; was he stupid, desperate, or did he just loathe Dunmer? Maybe all three. She saw his eyes, darting from her, to the giant, then back to her.

"Walk away, right now," she warned, jerking her chin behind her.

"Nice try, but you don't scare me," he said, voice wobbling slightly. Maybe she didn't, but those mammoths' tusks, and that giant's club sure did. Llathala was tempted to hand over the money, just to get her and Meeko out of there, but, by Azura, if a stubborn streak didn't decide to show up at the most inopportune times.

"I'd rather die," she snapped.

Their fight was a desperate one, a contest of speed rather than strength. Llathala swung her sword recklessly; it was more flailing than anything. She could hear Meeko whimper and growl, and she could feel the footsteps approaching. Finally, they got too close. Something inside her just snapped, and she ran, shoving her way out of the tangle.

She skidded to halt, sliding under another outcropping, ignoring the pain. Llathala tried to calm her rapid breathing; she could hear angry grunts from her hiding place. A few seconds later, all was quiet and the haze faded from the dark elf's mind. Meeko wasn't with her.

Something cold gripped her chest as she sprinted over. Two shapes lay in the dust, ominously still. The Argonian's head was crushed, but his hands were empty. Meeko was stirring fitfully, struggling around the blade embedded in his chest.

Llathala cast the healing spell, willing the sting in her eyes to go away. Meeko would be fine, he had to be.

* * *

"It is a lonely thing, facing the dangers of Skyrim by yourself," Jenassa remarked as she opened the door to the Drunken Huntsman. "If you change your mind, seek me out here."

Llathala nodded curtly, before turning to walk the road leading to the market. Jenassa had been a good ally to have, as she did not act without thinking, and was a strong fighter. She did not pry, either, which was something that Llathala decided was necessary. Especially after Belrand, and his oddly incessant questions.

Wearily, the dark elf climbed the steps to Dragonsreach. She fumbled in her satchel for the dragonstone, and prayed to Azura that there would not be a long-winded ceremony by Farengar or the Jarl.

* * *

"Jenassa!" Llathala shouted, sounding frightened.

"Ah, my patron appears once more. Have you… need of my services?"

"There's a dragon attacking the western watchtower, so, yes, I have need your services."

"I am the shadow at your back."

Despite herself, Llathala admired Jenassa's courage. The wily woman was almost eager to fight this dragon? Llathala hoped they survived the encounter.

* * *

Llathala was not happy with this newest arrangement. Here she was, about to clear out a den of vampires, and now there was a green mercenary following her. Llathala regretted the day she had convinced Erik's father to let him become a hireling.

He seemed eager, in a naive sort of way. Eager to pick up tips, to earn is nickname of 'Slayer.' She would be lying, to say she had never felt the same.

* * *

"Mralki!" Llathala shrieked. No response. "Mralki!" She screamed louder. Something stirred.

"Ah, the dunmer hireling," said Jouane Manette, sounding concerned. "What is-"

He had noticed Erik's limp form.

* * *

"Thanks to your quick actions, he will live," Rorik said quietly, patting the dark elf's shoulder and leaving.

Llathala managed a weak smile, before placing her hand weakly over Erik's. He was young, and strong. Yes, he would live. The Dunmer had made sure of it.

* * *

"Nisath? Nisath!"

"You _whore! _How dare you-"

_"You killed him, you bastards!"_

* * *

The Dunmer awoke, tangled in her sheets, a searing pain running up and down her arm. Sweat poured down her body, and she could hardly breathe. Something stirred beside her bed, and she sprang up, attempting to grasp a nearby dagger.

"Hey, calm down, new blood, it's just me," came a familiar voice. Ria; Llathala forced herself to calm down. "Are you okay? It looked like you were possessed, the way you were thrashing."

"I'm… I'm fine," the dark elf gasped, forcing herself to breathe despite the pain.

"Is it your arm?" Llathala stared at her. "I listen," the imperial said by way of explanation.

"Yes," the elf said quietly.

There was a pregnant pause, then:

"You screamed someone's name, loud enough to wake the dead," Ria said, sounding hesitant. "I'm actually surprised no one else has come to investigate…"

Llathala gave her a flat look, which quickly changed to an appraising one. Ria wasn't trying to pry, she wanted to help.

"Nisath was a… was a friend of mine. He died, end of story," Llathala said, her voice starting out soft, and then becoming flinty.

Ria gave her an equally appraising look, then said quietly: "I know how it feels to lose someone special. And they're why I joined the Companions." She began to walk back to her bed, then stopped, and turned back. "Sometimes, the struggle is what reminds us to draw breath."


End file.
